


Make Your Choice

by Space_Conspiracy



Series: Jigsaw’s Apprentice and the Deathslinger of Glenvale [2]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Gen, I swear it’s more serious than the description makes it seem, an ill advised outing goes horribly wrong, takes place after Gearhead and before Pig, unbeta’d
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29979510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_Conspiracy/pseuds/Space_Conspiracy
Summary: Amanda and Caleb share their stories, Claudette makes a deal.In which three people, forced by circumstance, infiltrate the Hawkins Underground laboratory for those good good shrooms
Relationships: Caleb Quinn | The Deathslinger & Amanda Young
Series: Jigsaw’s Apprentice and the Deathslinger of Glenvale [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2205141
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Make Your Choice

Time passed comfortably for Amanda. 

Every few days Amanda would pack up her tools and toys and venture over to Glenvale, where she’d sit with Quinn and work on her latest idea. Time was spent in silence usually, a bottle of whisky shared between the two as they worked on their projects. Sometimes they’d talk, about the best gears for something or the right lubricant for another, but never about themselves or the lives they once lived. Time would pass, and one of them would grow tired or be called to a trial so they’d conclude their business for the day, and so the cycle would repeat. 

Amanda couldn’t help but admit she was the happiest she’d been in a while. 

Amanda walked around the meat packing plant, checking boxes and taking inventory, seeing what new rubbish the Entity was gifting her today. Not enough parts and chemicals as was the usual, she was running out of sedatives and poisons, which unfortunately meant a visit to the Clown. 

To say the Clown was a wholly unpleasant man would have been a huge understatement, his personal hygiene was subpar at best and his personality was even worse. She hated that some of her trap modifications needed his chemical expertise, but it was too risky to try and steal them premade from the hospital and the lab. Amanda had agreed to house some of his concoctions near the freezer room of the factory in return for some of his easier to make drugs, but anything harder required she bring the materials to him herself. She had only done that once, braving the underground lab only long enough to grab a handful of supplies, and had spent her time watching the bottles steadily empty as she decided whether or not it was worth it. 

So Amanda threw dumb boxes full of John’s last will and testament, and stupid tapes preaching the philosophy of his games into a crate and decided, yeah, maybe it was worth it. 

—

There was something wrong with the Pig and Claudette couldn’t quite figure out what. 

It was not unheard of for killers to do something off brand in a trial, sometimes they’d drop you on the hatch of you were the last one alive and bleeding out or they’d only hook you a certain number of times before leaving you be, no matter how many time they’d find you. On more than one occasion Claudette had had one of the Legion kids simply hang out, leading them from generator to generator like a mother duck leading her ducklings. Susie was pretty cool about it all. The only time the Pig was likely to leave you be was if she could see that you already had one of her bear traps on your head and were likely to time out before you got it off. But what she was doing now? Unheard of by any standards. 

The generator is front of her chugged slowly as she twisted a wire together. There was a sudden scuff of boots to her left which caused Claudette to startle, but she calmed when she saw Kate slide onto the generator next to her. 

“Hey so what’s up with the Pig?” Kate asked quietly as she twisted a gear. “I just about ran into her and she completely ignored me.”

“Same thing happened to me,” Claudette replied. “It kind of looked like she was... counting?”

“Counting?” 

“Yeah. She’d walk a couple of steps, stop. Do it again. She was paying really close attention to what was around her. I’m pretty sure she saw me but she just took out some paper and wrote something down before starting again.”

Claudette sparked a wire together, watching Kate’s reaction out of the corner of her eye. The blonde was frowning and chewing on her bottom lip, half in concentration. 

“I don’t get it,” she finally said, twisting a final gear, lighting the generator as she did. On the other side of the lab, another one sparked to life. 

“Who else is here?” Claudette asked quietly as they crept through the halls to the next generator. They were close to one that was normally in that weird plant/fungus room. Claudette would have done just about anything to get her hands on samples to study but she didn’t have time during trials and attempting to access trial grounds while you weren’t in one was way too risky with the majority of the killers. According to Steve, the lab was almost certainly where the Demogorgon creature was during its downtime and everyone agreed that trying to creep around its territory outside trials was the _baddest_ of ideas. 

“I saw that new girl when we started,” Kate whispered as they rounded the consoles and started up the stairs. “Zarina.”

Zarina had shown up only recently, around the same time they’d started seeing that old western town and the man with the harpoon gun. It had honestly been a little terrifying, expecting to see another killer with a melee weapon and instead have someone snipe you across the map and start reeling you in. It was still taking some getting use to. 

They reached the generator and got to work, keeping a careful eye out just in case the Pig stopped being weird and started hunting them. 

The silence is unsettling, but between the two of them they were making quick work. 

“I want to grab a sample,” Claudette says quietly, withdrawing her hands from the generator’s guts. 

“ _A sample_!“ Kate hisses. 

“Yeah, this might be the only chance I get.”

Claudette ducked away from the generator towards the densest patch of plant matter across the room. Kate stayed on the generator, watching in between sparking wires together, her expression dubious. 

Nobody really knew what grew in and around the lab, so the chance to be able to study it was more than Claudette had ever wanted. She prodded at the mass of plant matter as she crouched to the ground, opening her medkit with her free hand. The texture was slightly rubbery, a little rough in other areas and just about impossible to peel away from the surfaces it grew to, and as Claudette rifled through her medkit for the chunk of metal she kept on hand (just in case) she heard the scuff of shoes behind her and turned to find herself face to face with the Pig. 

Claudette jerked back, falling onto her backside as the woman in front of her tilted her head, considering. Above and behind, Kate was visible at the generator, just out of view but tense and ready for trouble. It seemed she had also been taken by surprise. 

“You are the botanist,” the Pig said slowly. 

“Uh...” Claudette’s brain just about short circuited, she’d never heard the Pig talk, barely any of the killers did. She opted to nod and carefully began levering herself to her feet as inconspicuously as possible. 

Above her the Pig seemed to be contemplating something, backing away slightly and straightening up, looking around the room. If she saw Kate, she didn’t say anything. 

“What do you know about these?” The woman asked abruptly, waving her arm vaguely about the room. 

“The plants?” Claudette asked, a little confused. 

“Yes the plants,” she snapped. 

“Um, nothing really. I haven’t had the chance to study them. They sort of look like a fungus to me honestly, you see the spores-“

“The Clown likes to use them in his drugs,” the Pig cut in. “Makes a very strong anaesthetic.”

“Oh.” 

That made sense. If the plants had a natural anaesthetic property then the spores made a good delivery system, it was likely the Entity made them inert during trials to prevent an environmental hazard. Claudette looked around the room intrigued. If she could get a sample she could look into a way to use them as a jury rigged painkiller during trials. Above her, Kate made a sharp “come here” motion. Right, still in a trial. 

“What do you know about collecting spores?” The Pig asked. She was between Claudette and the exit, if the woman was feeling stab happy then there was no way Claudette was getting out of this unharmed. 

“Uh...” Claudette‘a thoughts scrambled back to classes involving fungi and all the safety precautions involved with them. “Well I’ve never collected spores before...”

The Pig’s posture changed, growing rigid. 

“You could probably put it in a bag or something! Like with mushrooms right?” Claudette’s mouth was racing ahead of her thoughts, blurting the first thing that sounded remotely viable. The Pig tilted her head and muttered something that Claudette didn’t quite catch. 

“You survivors would consider an anaesthetic useful wouldn’t you?”

“I mean yeah,” Claudette agreed. “But I’d have to figure out how to make something like that.” 

A pause as the Pig considered her words. 

“Any reason you haven’t tried yet?”

“Well...” Claudette picked at a chunk of the plant material to demonstrate how stuck it was the wall. “No time, don’t have the right tools.”

The Pig nodded as if she understood. 

“Say I had the tools, would you do it?” She asked. 

“Make the anaesthetic?”

The Pig nodded impatiently and tapped a foot. 

“I guess. What do you want out of it?”

“A trade I suppose.” The Pig made a placating gesture. “If I provided you the materials, you will make me an anaesthetic. Something close to chloroform if you can.”

Claudette remembered briefly a trial with the Pig where the bear trap placed on her head had a surgical mask attached to it that made her feel woozy whenever she breathed. Claudette had not survived that trial. 

“Why should I help you kill me faster?”

There was a hint of a smile in the Pig’s voice as she spoke. 

“Well if you don’t help me I’ll simply collect these spores the way I did last time and bring it to the Clown. He’ll make me what I need and he’ll get what he wants.”

“But if I help you-“

“You’ll be getting whatever you don’t give to me to use in your little medkits and the Clown won’t be getting anything,” the Pig finished. 

Claudette flicked her gaze to Kate briefly but she hadn’t moved from the generator, simply motioning her to move again. She might not have heard. The Pig’s offer was good, and it left a lot of wiggle room. 

“Do you have the tools here? I could-“

“We’ll have to come here outside of a trial,” the Pig explained. “I don’t like it either.”

Claudette blanched. 

“I can’t come with you! Not outside of a trial! This is the Demogorgon’s place!”

“Unfortunate, I know. Do you want your precious drugs or not?” 

“I-“

Claudette had been eaten by the Demogorgon more times than she cared for. But if she could make this theoretical painkiller, there was a good chance they’d start surviving more trials. 

“I can’t fight,” she finally said. “If we get in trouble I’m going to run.”

The Pig made a scoffing noise. 

“If we get in trouble I’m throwing you at that thing as a distraction.”

As much as Claudette wanted to be insulted she supposed that was fair. 

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

The Pig nodded. 

“So uh, can I go?”

The Pig looked a little startled, as if remembering they were in a trial to begin with.

“Right,” she said, taking one final look around the room. “I’ll contact you when I’m ready.”

“Sure uh-“ Claudette was abruptly cut off as the Pig suddenly lunged at her, blade extended.

It was safe to say that Claudette did not survive that trial. 

—

Caleb was having a quiet day. He’d been in this strange place hunting his wrongdoers for maybe three weeks, it was difficult to tell since the sun never changed in Glenvale, and he’d been run ragged, performing in trial after trial to please the thing that had spoken to him. But Caleb had woken that morning, or the approximation of morning anyway, and found himself uncalled for and with nothing to do. 

So, he’d wandered. He rooted through the sheds for supplies since some of his own were running low and for maybe the first time went beyond the boundaries of the ghost town and into the forest beyond. The going was slow, his leg had been badly injured during the riot at Hellshire Prison and it hadn’t properly healed in the intervening days, but he relished the chance to enjoy the quiet wilderness. His scrounging turned up plants he hadn’t seen in some time and bear traps (the regular variety) scattered about. When he found the first one, purely by accident while pulling up a patch of poison ivy, he remembered Miss Amanda’s brief comments about a man she called MacMillan. He wasn’t scared of a man like that, some rich asshole that thought that just because you held the title deed it became your God given right to punish those who stumbled upon it, but nonetheless took things a little slower and cut his exploration much shorter than originally intended. 

So yeah, Caleb was having a quiet day. 

It was late afternoon by his guess, although it always was in Glenvale, and Caleb found himself in his usual spot in the saloon, glass of whisky on the table and an assortment of metal and tools in front of him. He was doing an assortment of maintenance tasks on the Redeemer, reoiling the chain, cleaning out the chamber and winding poison ivy around the tip of the spear itself. He needed to make more rounds too, a slightly fiddly task he was leaving until last. 

He was part way through threading the chain back through the reel system when Amanda knocked on the doorframe and pushed open the saloon doors, laden down with a bag and copious amounts of papers. 

“Hi there Miss Amanda,” he said. 

“Hey Quinn,” she replied a little absently. She settled herself at a table that wasn’t strewn with his own equipment and placed the bag that was usually full of tools on the table. “Just take what you need.”

“Thank you kindly, Miss. Can ay get you a drink?”

“Not today. I gotta remember...” she trailed off as she pulled out a pencil and made a mark on one of the pages and squinted at her writing. 

It was fairly typical for Amanda to not be working on her own contraptions, sometimes she’d bring over schematics that she’d spend her time adjusting, occasionally asking for his opinion as she went. From his position at his table, it was a little difficult to tell, it didn’t look like trap plans, and she sounded extremely distracted. Like someone in the throes of a plan. He finished rethreading the chain and limped over to her, peering at whatever she was working on over her shoulder. It looked sort of like a map and it took Caleb a moment to recognise it. 

“Is that that white place? The underground one?” It certainly looked like one of three indoors areas they had trials in, and Caleb doubted Amanda would be making a map of her own area. 

Amanda looked up and squinted at him, like she was trying to gauge his reaction. 

“Yeah. It’s the lab.”

Caleb looked at the drawings again. They had been free handed, most of the lines were a little wobbly but everything seemed mostly recognisable. He pointed to a section of the map. 

“There’s a bunch a junk here, in the middle. It’s a tight spot, impossible to aim over.”

Amanda considered the section he’d pointed to and added a wobbly blob in the middle that she labelled “junk”.

“Why the map?”

Amanda tapped her pencil on the table as Caleb took a seat opposite her, digging through his coat pocket as he did. He pulled out a little tin of tobacco (that constantly refilled itself) and stuck a wad in his mouth, chewing slowly and carefully with his busted jaw. 

“I... need something from here,” she said slowly. “The plants that grow there make some of the best anaesthetic according to the Clown.”

“Ay thought you told me that it was dangerous to go there outside of trials?” He asked, settling his chewing into a rhythm. 

“It is. But it’s worth it. I-“ she suddenly stopped herself from continuing the sentence and gave him a calculating look. “Why do you kill Quinn?” 

Caleb continues his chewing, thoughtful. He’s been wronged, badly, in his lifetime and he sees the injury and death he inflicts on others as repayment for his own suffering. That thing, what Amanda calls the Entity, has given him to opportunity to have his revenge on all those who have wronged him, each survivor a face from his past that did him dirty. And there were many, many faces. 

“Why do you kill Miss Amanda?” He asks instead. They’ve never asked each other such personal questions before. 

Across from him Amanda’s expression turns sad, then angry, then sad again as she thinks. 

“I,” she starts, “was addicted to drugs. Badly.” She runs a hand up a sleeve, resting her palm in the crook of her elbow. “So I was tested by a man named John Kramer. Jigsaw. He found people who were... lacking I suppose. And he gave them an opportunity to face death, conquer it and become a new person who valued the life they had.” Amanda reached into a place only she could access and pulled out one of her reverse beartraps and set it on the table almost reverently.

“I was receiving help but... it was hard. I did some bad things to stop the withdrawals. I don’t think John ever knew this but I’m the reason his son died.” A wry smile stretched across her face. “I guess it’s my fault I was tested but not the reason you’d think.” Caleb nodded to indicate he was listening, tilting his head for her to continue as she paused to gather her thoughts. “I was placed in a room with this on my head-“ she tapped the trap “-and I had a minute to kill the paralysed man in the room with me to retrieve the key from his stomach. I’d seen him around, at the clinic. He was doing well, I think. Better than I was anyway.”

“You did it?” Caleb asked softly. 

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Certainly made me appreciate my life, considering I could have been the one on the floor, destined to be slaughtered like a pig.”

Caleb spat his wad of tobacco onto the floor and made a disgusted noise. 

“So now I’m stone cold sober because I’m too scared that I’m going to have another one of these things strapped to me again, I’ve just killed a man and nearly died myself and then I have John Kramer breaking into my _fucking apartment_ -“ her fist tightened and she had to take a moment to visibly collect herself before she continued “- and he tells me that’s he’s so proud, I’m a changed woman and maybe I can help him change some more lives! And I’ve got _nothing_ and if this man is telling me that I’m changed well I guess I have, what else am I going to do? So I go with John fucking Kramer and I help him set up his little traps but more people die than survive and I realise that no, I’m not changed, people don’t change. So I look at people who deserve punishment instead, people who have shown they can’t change and I punish them, I kill them, I set them in traps they’ll never escape and they _die_.” By this point Amanda’s voice has pitched up and her face has become pale and tear stained but she continues anyway. “And the police are onto us, I have no way out, and I try to get them off our trail but they just keep coming after us and as I’m bleeding out on the floor that dead son of a bitch looks at me as though he’s known all along and says he’s been testing meand that I’ve _failed_.” She bursts into tears at this, curling in on herself as she begins sobbing loudly. Caleb, terrified at this display of emotion, shifted awkwardly before placing his hand on top of hers from across the table, running a rough thumb over the top in what he hopes are soothing circles. It takes her a while before she eventually calms down and pulls her hand away, wiping her eyes and nose with the sleeve of her coat. She tries to start talking but has to stop herself, hiccuping each time she tries before eventually taking several deep breathes and calming herself. 

“I kill to punish those who are beyond saving. But the Entity didn’t quite seem to understand that, it seemed to think I was like Jigsaw. That I would think the small problems of average people would warrant a _game_.” She spits the word like a curse. “So now I do it because I have no choice, because my alternative is death and in the long run I am no different to how John first found me.” Amanda let out a long sigh that she hiccuped through, placing her hands firmly on the table like an anchor. She looked delicate, like a porcelain doll that had been dropped too many times, any more and she would break. Caleb doesn’t know how to comfort someone, he hasn’t cried since he was 4 and he barely remembers the comfort and safety of his mother’s touch, but he reaches out a hand again and places it on hers. 

“Ay spent a lot of my life gettin’ taken advantage of. Boys at school, employers-“ he chuckled darkly “- the prison warden.”He began slow strokes with his thumb on the back of her hand as Amanda took slow, steadying breathes. “There were people ay wanted to kill, nearly did, but ay was always stopped. My boys, the Hellshire Gang, they kept me grounded but each and every one of them woulda ridden into hell for me if ay asked. And ay did ask. We rode to that god forsaken prison and took what was due. Ay’m stilled owed though, for every slight ay have ever endured and here, that thang gives me what ay am owed. Ay kill because ay have been wronged, Miss Amanda, and ay think you have too.” He gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile despite his lopsided mouth but Amanda only looks away, eyes red and swollen. 

“Quinn... Caleb,” she says. “The people we hunt aren’t the people who wronged us. They’re just average people.”

Caleb thinks about the trials where he’d reeled in Lenny Wilkins, the boy who he’d gotten into a fist fight with and lost over his accent, or finding Sarah May, who had at first refused to pay him his wage just because he was Irish, hiding in a corner where she thought he hadn’t seen her. 

“They are...” he says, trailing off a little. Amanda gives him a strained smile. 

“I made a deal with one of them, an average girl who’s good with plants. I’ve never seen her outside of this place, I don’t even know her name. You’re being lied to Caleb.”

He wants to protest, that of course these are the people he hates, but his thoughts flicker to Bayshore, beating him black and blue during the riot at Hellshire Prison before placing him on a hook again, and again and again, each thought murky and distorted as sometimes he sees the fat, bearded brute while others it is some scrawny kid with glasses.

“I was... going to ask for your help but...” she trailed off and sighed, wiping at her face again. “If she’s just another one who’s wronged you then it’s best if you don’t.”

“Ay’ll come,” he says firmly hoping to hide the growing doubt of his thoughts. “It ain’t the first time ay’ve worked with a bounty for somethin’.” He’d still brought the man in but he’d been able to curb his first impulse of spearing the man on the end of his gun until they’d made it out of the canyon they’d been stuck in first. 

“Can I trust you Quinn?” Amanda asks, like divulging her life story hadn’t been a sign of her trust in him. 

“Ay won’t kill anyone you bring along, bounty or otherwise.”

Her eyes are still red and raw, tear stains still tracked down her pale face but she nods once. 

“Ok. Here’s what I had in mind...”

—

Caleb had never visited the meat packing plant outside of trials, but he had agreed to meet with Amanda to help her carry things, although what things she hadn’t specified. Together they’d come up with a loose plan and a firm escape route for if they ran into trouble, a plan that mostly involved running as fast as possible in the opposite direction. Neither killer had ever dealt with the lab’s resident eldritch horror so Amanda had been using some of her time in trials speaking to the people she hunted, exchanging their lives for information regarding the Demogorgon’s hunting habits. It had taken a lot longer than Caleb had expected of her, but he found himself appreciating the attention to detail that he himself would have employed back in his own bounty hunting days. 

The plant was much like it was in trials, although perhaps a bit bigger and a little brighter. Caleb walked past crates and storage containers slowly, his leg sore from his day of trials, but also taking the time to look at the environment. There was never time during trials, he has his tormentors to catch after all, but much of the machinery was strange and alien to him, but so intensely fascinating. He’s leaning against a metal carriage with two prongs sticking out from it, trying to look like he’s resting his leg but is in reality trying to figure out panel with buttons and dials when he hears the quiet scuff of shoes against stone and a slight hitch in breath. He turns, fully expecting to come face to face with Miss Amanda, but the girl in front of him (only a girl) is somehow shorter, with dark skin and hair and big glasses and for a second he saw Nancy, one of the few people who’d ever been kind to him but had sold him out when he’d needed her the most, but his vision shifted, warped and the dark green skirt and white blouse faded and became a pink shirt and cuffed denim and for the first time since he’d come to the Entity’s realm Caleb found himself seeing a survivor for who she truly was. 

—

Claudette had talked the Pig’s plan over with the rest of the survivors and while they had generally agreed that yes, extra medical supplies were a godsend, sending Claudette alone maybe wasn’t the best idea. David had volunteered to go in her place, as had Tapp, but when she’d asked the Pig if she could swap out or bring company, the killer had been adamant it just be her, going quiet and angry when she’d mentioned Tapp. So Claudette was going alone. 

Killer realms were different outside of trials, usually larger and with less corpses. There was always a risk when they went scavenging that the killer was one more inclined to murder and by this point they knew which areas to avoid when possible. Killers usually stuck to their own areas, with the exception being Ghost Face, who they had spotted lurking on just about every property they scavenged on and would generally leave them be if they gave him some gossip as payment. Which is why Claudette, who had been walking through the corridors of the meat packing plant searching for the Pig, had been completely put off guard when she found the Deathslinger investigating a forklift as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Her intake of breath was involuntary and the man immediately whipped his head up, studying her with such an intense stare she could almost physically feel his gaze. His expression flickered slightly, shifting from intense concentration to shock before settling into a stern frown. He straightened himself against the forklift, clearly favouring one leg, and reached into a pocket. Claudette, already frozen in fear over finding the fucking _Deathslinger_ at the meat packing plant, just about bolted as the killer pulled out a little tin and began chewing on a small portion of whatever it was. 

“Ay ain’t goin’ to hurt ya,” he said. “Ay promised our mutual friend.”

“Uh, thanks?” She replied, uncertain. Claudette darted her gaze around, looking for any possible escape routes as the Deathslinger continued to study her. 

“Ya look like someone ay used t’know,” he finally said. His voice was quiet, a little sad a little angry. He huffed and spat to the side before stepping forward, hand extended. “Caleb Quinn, leader of the Hellshire Gang.”

“Uh.” Claudette regarded the hand in front of her, a strange peace offering from a man who has killed her so many times and seemed to relish it whenever he did. “Claudette Morel.” She tentatively reached a hand forward, more out of politeness sake than anything and gave his a quick shake, withdrawing the moment she’d done her due diligence. The Deathslinger, Caleb, continued to study her before lurching forward suddenly, his gait unsteady. 

“Ay think we should go find Miss Amanda, she’s probably waitin’ for us.”

He started forward, picking a section of the warehouse that Claudette hadn’t been to yet but was pretty sure was the Pig’s hideout based on the trial decor. 

“Wait,” Claudette called, trailing behind a little. “Miss Amanda?”

“She’s one of us,” Caleb said turning slightly so she could see the ruined portion of his jaw. “Wears a pig’s head.”

“The Pig’s name is _Amanda_?” Claudette asked incredulously. The whole “killers being people behind the mask” still hadn’t stopped being surprising yet. 

Caleb nodded in a way that showed he was amused but stopped suddenly, his injured leg buckling, forcing him almost to his knees. He hissed through his teeth before straightening as if nothing happened and continued to limp deeper into the warehouse. 

“I-“ Claudette cut herself off, half concerned for the man limping ahead of her, more concerned for her safety. “Are you alright? Your leg...” She trailed somewhat uncertainly behind him as she inspected the leg as best as she could from a distance. 

It was something she had noticed once, in the kind of idle way you notice mannerisms or physical traits in dire situations. She’d been wedged under a hook, bleeding out while Meg had struggled above her and as the Deathslinger had irritably attempted to reach the position she’d unintentionally found herself in. As he’d reached forward, she’d noticed the way it buckled slightly as he stiffly bent, the knee seeming to be wrapped in thick fabric under his jeans, and she’d sworn the motion had created a dark splotch on the fabric. She’d noticed the limp of course, but she’d always assumed it was an old wound but now...

“Ay’m fine,” he bit out. 

Claudette did not want to push it. She really didn’t. But she’d gotten so used to tending wounds, acting like a mother hen over a group of (extremely stupid) chicks. 

“I could-“

“ _Ay’m fine,_ ” he growled, continuing to limp further into the warehouse. “And if ya bring it up again, ay’m goin’ t’conveniently forget ‘bout the deal ay made with Miss Amanda.”

Claudette gasped and quickly covered her mouth with her hands. Right, of course. Caleb Quinn was still a killer after all. She trailed after the man as he weaved past shelving and machinery, quietly chewing on her lip and fiddling with the straps on her makeshift backpack. 

“So why’re you here?” He asked as they rounded the corner leading into the room with the chute that led to the floor below. Claudette had been quiet as she followed him but she had the faintest idea he might be lost. 

“Oh!” She brightened. “I’m a botany student you see, I know a lot about plants and a bit about fungi. Those plants in the lab produce spores and the Pig wanted my help-“

“Ah,” he interrupted. “Ay see.” He did not elaborate any further than that as he took stock of their surroundings. He pursed his lips and rubbed at the back of his neck as he turned a slow circle, like he was trying to orient himself. There was a quiet snort from a doorway and Claudette startled slightly as her attention was drawn to the Pig, Amanda, leaning arms crossed against a doorway. Caleb turned too, posture tense but visibly relaxing when he saw the other woman. 

“Look I don’t have all day for this so if you two are finished sightseeing, I’d like to go,” the Pig said firmly, straightening and adjusting her coat. 

“Oh, um,” Claudette started but was abruptly cut off as Caleb stepped forward in front of her. 

“Ya said ya had some thangs for me t’carry?” He said pointedly, a brief glance and head shake back to Claudette keeping her silent. 

“Yes,” the Pig replied. She was hard to read, her face covered by her severed pig’s head, but her tone was irritated. She turned abruptly and began walking deeper into the warehouse, leaving Caleb and Claudette no choice but to follow behind. She was grateful for the man walking in front of her, he was much taller than her so he made a good shield for the Pig’s foul mood but his reaction had puzzled her. It was like the Deathslinger was intentionally protecting her. 

“Um, why did you...” Claudette trailed off a little uncertainly, unsure how to phrase her question. 

“Y’don’t seem t’cope with confrontation,” he said as if that explained everything. 

“I- well-“ She began chewing on her lip as they entered the Pig’s workshop, the other woman already collecting and distributing bags, pushing a well worn duffle into Claudette’s hands. She pulled the zip, opening it slightly, revealing some jars, a few ziplock bags and a number of empty syringes. The Pig shouldered her own bag as Caleb took one too. 

“You,” the Pig started, fixing her gaze on Claudette. “Are taking point on this. You know your way around much better. Quinn, in the back. You’re looking for the slightest sign of that fucker, call it out the moment you see it.”

“Um... what about you?” Claudette asked cautiously. “You’re in the middle right?”

“Yes. Once we get what we’re after I’m going to carry it out, but if we need it I can create a distraction and hide.”

“Ay don’t like it,” Caleb said after a moment. “But ay don’t see any other way. You’ve got that map Miss Amanda?”

The Pig stiffened but handed Caleb a rolled up piece of paper that he stuffed into a coat pocket. The Pig seemed to scrutinise Claudette for a moment before abruptly pushing past her and out into the warehouse. 

The Deathslinger put a surprisingly gentle hand on her shoulder, making her flinch, and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

“Ay’m gonna keep an eye out for both of ya, ok?”

“Why?” Claudette asked quietly, watching the Pig leave. “I’m just another one of your...” she trailed off a little uncertainly. 

“Ay thought,” he started, as he limped slowly forward, bringing her with him. “That Ay knew you. But ay was wrong. So ay’ve got some makin’ up to do.”

“I... thank you,” she said sincerely, falling to step beside him. What this would change in trials Claudette did know, but for now, she appreciated the sentiment. 

“We had better not keep Miss Amanda waiting then,” he said and together they walked through the warehouse and out into the fog. 

—

The three of them entered the lab from the forest, stealing through one of the exit gates and quickly taking stock of their surroundings. Quinn had his rifle in hand, alert and ready while Claudette stepped cautiously forward, peeking around the corners to attempt to get her bearings. Amanda dropped to a stealthy crouch and watched the young girl take in her surroundings. Amanda was on edge, nervous. She’d been here once before and had hardly entered the lab before she seen the creature, leaving her no choice but to beat a hasty retreat with what little she had gathered. 

“Ok,” the botanist said creeping back. “We’re decently close. I didn’t see or hear the Demogorgon but I can see one of its rifts up ahead, so whatever happens we can’t step on that.”

Quinn nodded and Amanda crept over to the corner, peering down the sterile corridor as far as she could see. Clear, as Claudette had said, with a strange growth in the floor taking up the floor space. 

“What happens if we stand on it?” She asked. 

“It’s like it knows where we are and there’s this...” Claudette flapped her hand a few times as she tried to think of the word. “Like and aura or something that you can’t hear anything out of. Steve says they lead to the Upside Down and that it’s really bad there. It’s how the Demogorgon gets around too, if it knows we’re there then it could just pop out at any moment.”

Quinn nodded again, his expression hard to read and Claudette fiddled with the straps of her bag as Amanda frowned under her mask. 

“We can just go around it really,” Claudette continued. “There’s rooms off to the side we can use just in case.”

“Lead the way then,” Amanda said gesturing to the hallway. Claudette looked pale, but her expression was alert as she stepped out into the corridor, adopting a half crouch as she crept forward. Amanda fell into step behind, feet silent as she slunk at a reasonable distance, while Quinn’s footsteps jingled ever so slightly behind. 

They went slowly, avoiding any closed portals they found (of which there were an alarming amount), ears strained for any noises out of the ordinary. Much like the meat packing plant, the hallways were longer, with even more rooms leading deeper into the facility. There was a pervading smell of damp and rotting flesh as they skirted unrecognisable corpses in varying states of decay. Behind her, Quinn made an unhappy noise in the back his throat as they passed a particularly mangled corpse, Amanda herself having to step daintily over the puddle of blood to prevent her coat dragging through the viscous liquid. 

“We’re close,” Claudette whispered eventually as they approached the almost solid wall of spores marking the entrance to the lab. She crouched close to the wall and began rifling through the bag that she’d brought with her, a battered piece of cloth and rope that looked like it would fall apart at any moment. 

“What are you doing?” Amanda hissed. 

“Dust mask,” she replied quietly, pulling out strips of dirty cloth. “It’s the best I could do on short notice. I...” 

She frowned at the cloth in her hand and looked uncomfortable. “I only brought two.”

“Ay don’t need it,” Quinn said. “Ay can keep an eye on thangs out here, yell if Ay see it.”

Amanda didn’t like it but even through her rubber mask she could feel the clogging dust of the spores in her throat. She could only imagine how much worse it would get in the hallway ahead. And she couldn’t tell the girl to stay behind since that would defeat the purpose of having her here. She turned to Quinn and jabbed a finger into his chest. 

“The _moment_ you see it-“ she jabbed again “-you yell.”

“Of course Miss Amanda.” 

He gave a wry smile and began surveying the immediate area, moving a few feet back to a pile of discarded boxes. Claudette handed her a strip of fabric and began tying on own about her face, making sure to cover both nose and mouth. With no other choice, Amanda removed her mask and began doing the same, carefully avoiding the other girl’s curious gaze. The strip of fabric across the lower half of her face made it a little difficult to breath, perhaps the same as having her mask on, so she left the rubber pig’s head off, stuffing it into her bag both so she wouldn’t suffocate and also so she had a better range of vision. She nodded at Claudette when she was done and reshouldered her bag ready to head into the spores. Behind them, Quinn had set himself up behind the pile of crates, having moved a few to protect him from all sides, his rifle positioned almost like a sniper’s. He gave a nod and together, Claudette and Amanda walked into the spores. 

They were careful as they walked the last few feet to the lab. Visibility was greatly reduced and there was a blind corner before they reached the main entrance. Claudette, still leading, carefully approached it at a crouch and peeked around, giving a quick thumbs up to Amanda before crossing the junction and heading into the control area across from the majority of the plant growth. Claudette slowly levering herself through the window while Amanda took the long way around, pulling her bag to the front and beginning to take her tools out of her bag. Claudette turned to Amanda as she settled herself in a crouch and took the knife that was offered. 

“Ok, so here’s what I’m thinking...”

—

Caleb hated waiting. He was ok at it, sitting on a bluff with his boys, the quiet banter, the smell of cooking food as they waited for the caravan to cross their path. But this was tense, lonely, the only sounds being his breath too loud in his ears and the distant hum of machinery he didn’t understand. He only had Amanda’s description of what he was watching for, a beast that had no eyes at a glance, taller than the average man and pale sickly skin.Long sharp claws and a head that split open like a flower, revealing rows and rows of needle sharp teeth. Nothing like anything he’d ever seen, real or otherwise. 

He shifted his position in the little fort he’d created for himself, a haphazard collection of stacked boxes arranged to cover his front and back. His rifle was resting in a gap between two boxes pointed towards the corridor the two girls has gone down. His plan wasn’t great, create as much of a distraction as possible so both of them could get out of the dead end and run for the exit, but it was all he had really. Running wasn’t much of an option, his leg barely supported his walking these days but he’d coiled a strong chain through the feed as part of his preparations earlier, hopefully he’d be strong enough to keep it in place once he landed his shot. 

Caleb let out a heavy sigh through his nose, the air whistle slightly due to the badly healed break from long ago. What had he gotten himself into? Claudette, who looked at him with concern instead of fear, whose face was not her own during trials. He was being tricked, made to hunt by showing him people he so desperately craved revenge against, all so some creature could... what? And now that he’d seen her face, would it stay as it was? Would Caleb have to hunt a face he would normally protect? His heart felt heavy and he forced himself to take several deep breathes to calm himself to return to the present. He had to talk to someone, but he wasn’t really sure if Amanda would give him the advice he needed. 

The minutes trickled by. The air was stagnant and heavy, clogged as it was by spores so close to the corridor ahead. The hum of machinery, the occasional grinding of gears as a faulty door tried and failed to open behind him. Caleb almost didn’t hear it, a sound like the air quickly rushing through a space and then a shuffling, scraping, _digging_ and then air rushing out fast and violently as the creature emerged from the ground a few feet ahead of him. It stood slowly, taking its time as it moved its blind, walnut shaped head from side to side, like a dog sniffing for tracks. It stopped momentarily as it turned its head in Caleb’s direction, long arms corded with muscles and ending in razor sharp claws twitching and flexing as it seemed to consider something before suddenly turning its head back into the spores, towards the room Claudette and Amanda were currently in. Caleb could feel his head pounding and he had to remind himself to breathe quietly and deeply before he passed out as the creature, the Demogorgon, hunched itself and began padding further into the spores filled corridor. There was a corner before the entrance to the plant room leading back into the lab, and Caleb found himself gripping his rifle until his knuckles turned white, hoping, _praying_ it hadn’t heard the girls. It was almost out of range too, maybe 13 metres ahead, and he wouldn’t get a better chance than this. He had brought a coin with him, thin as a razor’s edge, iridescent and thrumming with power, and he found himself reaching for it, the hum comforting beneath his fingertips. Payment for services rendered, half now and the rest on arrival. He stood from his little hiding spot, rifle raised as he took slow steadying breathes, calming his beating heart and shaky hands. One step, two steps forward, as far as he could, footsteps loud and deliberate as the creature turned towards the noise, clicking and chittering all the while. Hissing and unfurling its head as it saw him taking careful steps forward. 

15 metres. 

—

Once Claudette had explained her plan for collecting spores and other plant material, the two had gotten quickly to work, silentlysharing the bag of tools that Amanda had brought. Despite their haste it was slow going, Claudette really only had a vague idea as far as collecting airborne spores went and even with the knives and saws available, the plant matter was tough and fibrous, firmly attached to each surface it clung to.But it was getting done. 

Claudette kept sneaking looks out of the corner of her eye, watching the Pig, _Amanda_ , work. The woman was pretty once, she supposed, but she was pale and sickly looking, with dark bruising under her eyes, hollow cheeks and scarring around her mouth that Claudette had noticed before she covered it with the cloth she’d been given. There was a serious set to her jaw and the beginnings of heavy creasing around her mouth that pulled her expression permanently downwards. And so very human as well, the way she would frown as she struggled with a particularly tough branch or tilt her head slightly when she succeeded. 

“I-“ Claudette started but quickly stopped as Amanda turned a hard stare towards her, hands still working away. Amanda would create piles of cut plants in front her before packing them away into whatever container or bag she had available, the pile in front of her neat and tidy. 

“This doesn’t change anything about trials,” she said quietly. 

“I... knew that.” Claudette had sort of hoped maybe things could be different. She wasn’t really sure how, but Caleb had seemed nice and the fact that Claudette was doing the Pig this favour seemed like it should have changed things. “Yeah I knew that.”

Silence returned as Claudette began struggling with a particularly large knot that emitted spores at the slightest touch. It was not a true silence really, this room had always been filled with a strange hum that made it hard to hear your heart beat, which was why Claudette almost didn’t notice the sound of rushing air in the distance. She froze instinctively, waiting to hear the overbearing presence of the killer before she remembered that this wasn’t a trial and that she’d have no way of knowing how the close the Demogorgon was. 

“Amanda,” she whispered. 

The woman next to her froze up. 

“We have to go,” Claudette whispered, already moving to pack up as quickly as quietly as possible. Her hands were shaking a slightly, and some of the glass jars they’d been using were clinking together in her hurry to get them safely wrapped in the fabric she’d brought as insulation. Amanda hadn’t moved from her spot and seemed to be centring herself, slowly flexing her hands and taking deep steadying breathes. Like she was scared. 

Claudette was just about done, having packed all the full jars and containers into her bag and stuffing the final empty ones into Amanda’s. 

“ _Amanda_ ,” Claudette hissed. “We have to go!”

Behind them a shot rang out, a yell from Caleb and inhuman screeching that seemed to wake Amanda, who snatched the bag Claudette had just finished filling and _ran_. 

—

It was the smart thing to do and Amanda had been upfront about leaving Claudette to die, so really she shouldn’t be that angry about it. 

Amanda hadn’t been scared for a long time, not since her Game. There had been stress and anger and even some happiness, but fear had been a long distant memory. But there was something about the room, the masks, the implied timer that was bringing her back-

_“Hello Amanda”_. 

She could hear him. 

She bolted out of the room, leaping through the open window and running blindly through a door that was normally closed in trials, barely hearing Claudette’s surprised gasp as she ran. It was too much, it was-

She skidded to a halt and crouch behind a ruined stack of crates, breathing heavily through the cloth mask. The spores extended even here, heavy and stagnant in the air, only being disturbed by her actions. 

_The room had been dimly lit, rotten and grimy and she’d been so scared, waking up unable to move with something on her head. Far heavier than anything she was used to, the prongs in her mouth tasting of rusting metal and blood. She felt like she could barely breath-_

Amanda slammed a hand against one of the crates, the soft flesh slicing through a jagged piece of plastic and the pain grounded her, forced her to focus. 

She was here for supplies. They were in her bag? It was only half zipped up so she ripped it open, expecting to see the jars, bags and containers that she and Claudette and brought filled with dark rubbery plants and fine dustings of spores but all she could see were the few remaining empty containers. A Tupperware container she’d once found in a replica fridge that she’d cleaned out of whatever gross thing the Entity thought should be in there, a roughly sewn together cloth bag made from scraps, a mason jar. 

She clenched her injured hand the pain grounding herself once again. 

In the distance was a shout, a sudden shriek. _Caleb_.

Amanda felt sick. 

—

Perhaps shooting it with a gun designed to reel people in hadn’t been the best idea. 

The creature strained against the chain where the spear had embedded itself in its shoulder while Caleb planted his feet and began tugging at the hand crank, slowly winding the chain. There was a movement out the door behind the Demogorgon but it was too quick for him to register it beyond that and then Claudette appeared in the doorway clutching at her bag and looking terrified behind her mask as Caleb kept winding, slowly drawing in the creature. It hissed and shrieked and strained, truly awful noises, but it slid forward slightly its clawed feet scrabbling against the smooth floor. Normally Caleb would close distance as he reeled a person in, but getting any closer would draw him into the heavy spore cloud. For now, he just needed to creature away from the door so Claudette and Amanda could leave. He grunted as the handle and chain strained but it gave as the Demogorgon slid forward again. Claudette, watching the creature slide out of striking distance quickly exited the doorway and ran to the corner, watching as Caleb struggled. He wanted to ask about Amanda but it was taking all his effort and focus to maintain his grip. 

There was an ominous creak from the chain and Caleb flicked his eyes down and made a noise halfway between a hiss and a grunt. One of the links had split and as the strain continued the break widened, barely holding onto its connections. He needed to do something fast. 

The creature was only 6, maybe 7 metres ahead of him, an easily coverable distance with his long legs. Only just inside the cloud of spores. It shrieked and scrabbled at the harpoon imbedded in its flesh, creating bloody furrows with its claws. The chain creaked once again, the link barely holding on. At the corner, Claudette was frantically digging through her bag, her head quickly darting between her search and the scene in front of her. Time seemed to slow as Caleb gave a hard final tug, the chain snapping completely, the Demogorgon lurching forward with the force, Caleb already beginning his mad dash forward towards the creature. 

He did not hear his own yell as he dived forward, nor Claudette’s shriek of warning. His heart was thudding in his ears, his leg screamed with pain as one, two, three- the creature recovering slowly but faster than expected and opening its head with a sharp hiss and flexing its claws- four, five- powerful muscles rippling as it launched itself forward, Caleb barely having time to bring the Redeemer up to block the blow, claws catching in his shoulder and raking across his chest. His own block had drawn a line across the Demogorgon’s chest with blood already beginning to seep from it, but now that the harpoon was no longer embedded in its flesh, having vanished the moment the chain snapped, it shrugged off the injury and gave an horrifying roar as it drew blood, flaring its head in all its awful glory. 

Behind it, Claudette shrieked as Caleb stumbled back a few steps, attempting to put as much distance as he could between him and the creature, just landing him outside the cloud of spores.The universally agreed upon plan had been to run. He looked Claudette dead in the eye as he raised the bayonet on the Redeemer defensively. 

_ “Go!“ _

She hesitated for a moment her expression, what little he could see, becoming stricken, but she nodded once and scrambled away from the corner and out of sight. The Demogorgon, enticed by the smell of blood and the prospect of an easy meal in front of it, simply gave a rumbling hiss in front of him and advanced, claws flexing. 

Caleb had not been in close combat in some time, preferring to let his gang cause whatever fights they wanted and leaving before law enforcement decided to take issue, but he remembered school and prison yard fights. Stay low and mobile, let a bigger foe try and use their strength against you and then overwhelm them with greater speed and dexterity. Caleb no longer had that speed and dexterity and his leg was barely holding him up after his tense struggle with the creature only moments ago. He needed to think fast. The corridor was tight and cramped, and far too close to the spores for him to be completely comfortable. The Demogorgon swiped and he was barely able to bring the barrel of the gun up to catch the blow and toss it aside. The creature’s limbs were long and gangly, powerful yes, but all he needed was to be too close for it take swipes. He ducked another claw and rushed forward, lowering his shoulder and tucking his chin, colliding with the creature square in the chest. The Demogorgon shrieked in surprise and stumbled backwards, losing its feet in its surprise. It was the reprieve Caleb needed, he turned and ran. 

—

Claudette had not left, not really. She’d ducked around the corner and went through the first open door she could find, hoping to reconnect on the other side of the Deathslinger and do... something. She’d never been particularly brave, but her desire to see people helped had always won out in these kinds of situations, one that tended to get her unnecessarily hurt as she patched up a wound. She brought a few things to help with their main objective, homemade bags and the few glass jars they’d found, but she’d also brought other things. Her best med-kit, the flashlight that Meg had tricked out for her to help with her shaking hands, a number of Laurie’s homemade shivs and a firecracker. It had been a lucky find by Ace (who had then proceeded to find ten more in the span of two trials) that they’d been hoarding for special occasions. The general consensus was that this was a special occasion, so Claudette had been holding her bag carefully in spite of everything, just in case it exploded. 

She ducked past shelving units and stacked boxes, noting the locations of raised pallets and closed lockers. A habit every survivor picked up eventually, but Claudette was coming up with the start of a plan, something that might allow her and Caleb to escape. As for Amanda, her brief look in the room hadn’t revealed the woman. 

Having moved out of the spores, she removed her makeshift mask and jogged over to the open door. To her right a series of neatly laid out and claustrophobic corridors that led to the exit, to her left, Caleb and the Demogorgon. There was a flurry of movement as the monster lunged and the Deathslinger blocked with his cruel gun, but she had to ignore it. Her gaze alighted on a pallet. It would do. 

Sprinting from the doorway, she placed herself at perfect slamming position and removed the firecracker from her bag, holding it ready. Ahead of her, the Deathslinger lunged forward knocking the Demogorgon off balance and turned on his heel, beginning to run in her direction. 

“Caleb!” Claudette raised her hand as high as she could to get his attention, the only indication he’d heard was to begin running as fast as he could towards the pallet. Behind him, the Demogorgon was already recovering, scrabbling to its feet with a great deal of hissing and screeching. 

“What’s yer plan?” Caleb panted as he came to a halt, already going through the motions of reloading his gun. 

“I have a firecracker,” Claudette started. “I’m going to slam this pallet on its head and then light it in its face.”

His face twisted slightly and he was silent as he snapped everything into place with a sharp crack. 

“It’ll work?”

“Yes.” It would in a trial. 

The Demogorgon was already beginning to move forward, building from a heavy bipedal walk to a loping four legged run. The timing would be tight, much tighter than what she was used to. She saw Caleb shift behind her, but she wasn’t paying attention to that, just the old splintery wood beneath her fingers, her breath in her ears and the monster sprinting towards her. 

It shrieked, raising a large clawed and Claudette reacted on instinct, slamming the pallet with all her might, the Demogorgon hissing and squealing in pain and frustration as it was temporarily stunned. Wasting no time, she ignited the end of the firecracker and dropped it, already turning away and grabbing Caleb by the arm to begin running. With series of pops and bangs the firecracker exploded and the Demogorgon shrieked in pain, seemingly slamming into things as it recoiled from the light and sound. 

They ran, Claudette’s hand clutching onto Caleb’s coat like a lifeline, stumbling over fleshy portals and darting through rooms, but he was lagging, each trip and stumble almost dragging them to their knees. Behind them the Demogorgon thundered, having recovered from its dual stun, hissing in rage and pain and steadily gaining. Letting go of Caleb’s arm, Claudette dropped another pallet, not enough to stun but enough to slow the creature down and as they round the final corner there was a rushing of air and-

Silence. 

They ran a few more paces before Claudette forced them to slow, listening intently. Caleb was breathing hard, his face twisted with pain, a thin sheen of sweat covering his face. The moment they stopped he all but collapsed against the wall, sucking in a breath as his wounded shoulder took the pressure. Her first instinct was to take out her med kit, start first aid but-

_ “We’re nearly there Claudette. If we stop now-“ _

_ “But he’s hurt!” _

_ “And if we don’t stop he’ll die! Things reset out of a trial, the sooner we get to the campfire, the sooner we’ll be safe.” _

“Things reset,” she muttered. She gripped her bag tightly and let out a deep breath. 

“Caleb? We’re nearly there.”

The Deathslinger grunted, straightened slightly, smearing his blood against the wall. 

“Can you make it?”

He grunted again. Claudette shuffled close to him, putting an arm around his waist as best as she could. Claudette was not tall or strong, but she’d do the best she could. He placed an arm somewhat awkwardly around her shoulder and together they began the slow progress of moving as quickly and quietly as they could. 

It was not atypical for the Demogorgon to suddenly give up a chase, sometimes using its flesh portals to attend to something else in a trial or even set up an ambush in a place it had predicted you were going. There was no way of knowing, so their best bet was to take things carefully and hope for the best. 

“Where’s Amanda?” Caleb suddenly asked as they passed an open doorway as quietly as possible. 

“I don’t know,” Claudette admitted. “She ran off.” 

A few more feet and they were out. Just around the corner really and then the fog beyond. Just-

A horrifying shriek filled the air as something charged from around the corner, barely missing with its strike. Claudette’s surprise had caused her to stumble back sharply pulling an unsteady Caleb off his feet, with Claudette landing heavily beside him. He grunted in pain but was already roughly pulling Claudette back behind him. The Demogorgon roared in frustration and flexed its claws. There was no cover, no pallets or lockers. Even if Claudette managed to get to her feet in time she’d have no way of helping Caleb before it lunged. 

It flexed, rocked back on powerful legs and flared its head, rows and rows tiny sharp teeth stark against blood red petals.Claudette scrambled back, fear gripping her. 

There was a squeal and a woman’s high pitch shriek and the Demogorgon suddenly stumbled forward, falling to the ground. Behind it, a woman in a deep red coat and a rubbery pig’s head, a bloody knife attached to her wrist. 

The Pig lunged again at the downed creature, stabbing viciously at exposed flesh as the creature shrieked in pain, attempting to scramble to its feet. The Pig had thrown herself onto its legs, using what little weight she had to try and pin it to the ground but it had already brought one clawed foot up under it. The Demogorgon’s initial surprise had worn off, it would be able to retaliate the moment it got to its feet.

Claudette wasted no time, scrambling to her feet and awkwardly helping Caleb to his, attempting to pull him quickly and carefully past both killers as the Pig continued her savage attack. 

The creature scrambled forward, out from under the Pig and regained its feet, turning and shrieking, flaring its head. The Pig darted towards Caleb and Claudette, grabbing the injured man with a strength that pulled Claudette off balance, dragging him around the corner and past the stack of boxes. 

“Go!” She yelled, giving them a final push towards the doorway. She turned as the Demogorgon screeched in rage and returned with her own shrill wordless yell. It paused, just slightly, and the Pig pushed with all her might against the crates sending them scattering across the entryway, and that was the last thing Claudette saw as she and Caleb stumbled into the fog and forest beyond. 

—

John liked baseball. 

It was one of the few things he allowed himself in his down times, even though watching it seemed to make him melancholic once the game was over. 

“I was going to teach Gideon how to play,” he told her once. “Maybe he’d make the big leagues, become a star.”

It was one of the few times he allowed himself what ifs, regrets about the life he lost. 

Hoffman liked football and would sometimes turn the game on as he worked on small fiddly things, filling the warehouse with loud cheers and his whoops and hollers of excitement. John had a distaste for the sport, calling it violent and dangerous, until Hoffman stopped watching it around him. Amanda didn’t watch tv, preferring to read stories she’d never gotten the chance to read as a child. 

“There’s something so special about victory won with others,” he’d said once. It was an old game, Amanda was pretty sure, but John liked it just the same. “Putting aside differences, finding a way to work together. Humans are inherently selfish but this proves they can make it work.”

John started working on the Nerve Gas House after that, his first “team sport”. The result had been as expected, he’d said after the fact. 

“There was not enough incentive to work together, I don’t think,” he’d said quietly from his sick bed. He’d been badly injured after his gamble with Eric Matthews and Amanda found herself by his side attempting to pick up the pieces, dabbing antiseptic solution on cuts and scrapes, rifling through a frighteningly low first aid kit. 

John tried again, designing another team based trial but it had sat on the back burner after he’d become too sick, accelerating Jeff and Lyn Denlon’s trial to top priority. Hoffman would have picked it up no doubt after they’d both died in the filth of the meat packing plant. 

Jigsaw’s approach to team trials was simple: all members can survive if you work together and cover each other’s weaknesses. Being selfish will only reduce your chances of survival. 

The Demogorgon was fierce, strong and _fast_ , too dangerous for tiny, weak Claudette and injured Quinn to deal with head on. But they played their parts, distracting the creature long enough for Amanda set up her own ambush. 

She stood there with the wreckage of crates and boxes strewn about the place and gave a primal shriek, one final yell to let it know that _they’d won_. The creature had become wary, unwilling to approach so she slowly backed up through the door, keeping herself as tall as she could be. The fog was a cool welcome friend, a respite from the horrors of the lab. Claudette and Caleb were sprawled on the grass of the forest, breathing heavily. 

“Where is it?” Amanda snapped, turning to the girl. 

The survivor blanched but offered her ratty bag, which Amanda snatched. Bags, jars, all containing spores and other such plant matter. 

“I-I w- I was going to give it to you b-but you-“

Amanda shoved it back into the girl’s hands. 

“I want something in a week.”

“I mean I’ll try b-but-“ Claudette took a deep steadying breath and averted her eyes. “Yes ma’am.”

Amanda knelt, andwith a touch perhaps more tender than she intended, stroked light fingers over Caleb’s shoulder wound, rubbing a smear of blood from his craggy broken face. His eyes were only half open and unfocused. 

“Help me get him back to Glenvale and then you can go back to your campfire.”

Claudette seemed to perk up a little and nodded, kneeling and helping Amanda pulling him into a sitting position, two tiny ladies trying to pull a 6ft man to his feet. 

“Ay’m fine,” he mumbled, stumbling awkwardly through the grass. His injured leg wasn’t supporting his weight so keeping him moderately upright was a chore in of itself. 

“I can bandage up your wounds once we get you settled,” Claudette said matter of factly. “And I’ll come back... tomorrow maybe. To check on them. I’ll bring Quentin and Jake too.” She lapsed into silence, clearly thinking of something she didn’t elaborate on any further. Caleb only grunted. 

The walk to Glenvale was silent, and it wasn’t until they had gotten Caleb settled in the only mattress in the saloon and Claudette had placed her medkit on a table to rifle through her supplies did Amanda clear her throat. 

“Thank you,” she said, the words thick on her tongue. 

“It’s alright, I mean he got hurt and I’d be a pretty bad medic if I just left him-“

“Not just for this,” Amanda cut her off, gesturing to the upstairs rooms Caleb was currently resting in. “For today. Everything. I should haven’t run off.”

Claudette paused with a roll of gauze in her hand, blinking somewhat owlishly. 

“When I was still new to all of this all I wanted to do was find a corner to hide in. I didn’t want to do anything but save myself. It took a while for me to start helping others. I was scared, really scared, and I still am.” The hand not holding the gauze began tapping her thigh. “But it takes a lot of courage to go back, put yourself at risk to help others. I really should be thanking you Amanda.”

Amanda chewed on her lip beneath the mask. Claudette really didn’t see how much she was doing for her, that Amanda’s simple thank you didn’t even scratch the surface of the debt she felt she owed the girl. She could only nod as Claudette turned again to her medkit and gathered her supplies to begin treating the injured killer in the upstairs bedroom. 

Amanda would pay the girl back in due time, but for now, she quietly exited the saloon and slunk down the dusty streets of Glenvale, returning once again to the fog’s dark embrace. 

**Author's Note:**

> Amanda is lying when she tells her story to Caleb, by omission at the very least. In canon she willingly joins with Jigsaw because being a torture bully gives her that rush she doesn’t have, makes her feel powerful yada yada. She’d much rather make her seem coerced or ill informed than admit her own fault, which is common fan interpretation. Villains can be interesting and complex without being sympathetic and making her out to exclusively be a victim makes her a worse character overall. At this point in her life she’d rather seem more sympathetic than she really is, an attempt to distance herself from Jigsaw. Eventually (out of the scope of my works) she’s able to reconcile “I hate Jigsaw” with “My being bad is not intrinsically tied to this man”.  
> Caleb is unapologetically a cruel person but I’ve chosen to write him having previously had a group of people around him that prevented him from taking it as far as he could go. It’s worth noting that even though the Redeemer (that horrifying chain gun of his) started out as being an unnecessarily painful way of killing someone was eventually refined to keep the victim alive (although for how long isn’t specified).  
> I find it interesting that the Entity seemed to give Caleb a leg brace once he was brought to the realm. It’s one of those details you don’t particularly expect. In this version of events (that I may or may not write) its a team effort of Jake and Caleb with input from Sally (who provides old but still relevant medical books and advice).  
> This took maybe three months to write, it became a slog to write dialogue, which killed my enthusiasm, so I’ve just been plodding away at the final segment for a while now. I have a few more ideas floating around but I don’t know if they’ll get written or not.


End file.
